Daria: Oversoul
by Trscroggs
Summary: In a world where meta-humans are a fact of everyday life, Daria is amongst the strongest of the strong. Too bad for her that strength comes with a voice in her head and permanent confinement. For her own good of course.
1. In which we meet the girls

As originally posted in the fragment's thread, this is the first chapter of a currently completed Daria AU.

Okay, I know this isn't what people want to see from me. Hell, this isn't necessarily what I felt like writing either.

I started this file back in May and had 60% of it written by the end of that month. Then suddenly my time and motivation for writing hit zero, since then I've been lucky to write a sentence or two a day, and what little time I spent tended to go to writing down individual scenes in a multitude of stories I won't finish or even probably publish.

This work is completely un-betaed and probably rife with errors, but I'm posting it up just to post something damnit. The only good thing about it is that this is a complete chapter.

**Daria's Other 'talking' to Daria**

_Daria 'talking' to her Other._

/

Meta-humans had been an accepted part of the world for almost 50 years, having first been properly documented in the early 1950's. Most 'normal' meta-human powers were essentially parlor tricks that anyone could duplicate with the right gadget; such as someone who could light cigarettes by pushing them against his thumb. While the actual source of meta-human powers was still unknown, it was understood that they were powered through a tiny channel into another dimension.

Oversoul level meta-humans were first publicized five years ago. If normal meta-humans had parlor tricks, Oversouls had powers out of a comic books. The idea of a meta-human that powerful would have eventually blown over but for the one universal fact united all the Oversouls together; they all had a voice in their heads.

Most scientists believed that the sheer power an Oversoul level meta-human could draw on was more than the human mind could handle. Thus each meta-human created of an energy-based mind, called an Other, to act as a gatekeeper for their powers.

Unfortunately, the public did not take the idea of powerful meta-humans with a literal case of multiple-personality disorder well. Laws had been enacted placing any known Oversoul into Facilities for their 'care and treatment'. Daria was the tenth Oversoul to be identified and the first to enter this particular Facility at the age of 13.

The Facility had once been a psychiatric hospital on several acres of lightly forested land. When the Facility took over the grounds the pragmatic designers realized there was nothing they could do to actually KEEP any of the meta-humans on campus and little had changed. Instead official policy stated that any meta-human who left the grounds would be the recipient of a shoot-on-sight order.

Most analysts believed that when public hysteria calmed down the Oversouls would be allowed back into public. Daria agreed, but at the same time realized that release would not be in her future; her powers ensured that.

One of Daria's therapists had likened her powers to a "wikipeida to the universe." Through her Other Daria could access information that was up-to-date and accurate on anything she could establish a link to. The only know limits to Daria's abilities were the requirement for a starting point and the inability to learn anything that occurred before the detonation of the first atomic bomb.

The government had only approached Daria with request a few times, such as to track down the terrorist ultimately responsible for the New York Trade Center bombings. Otherwise she was being kept away from the public to avoid the questions people didn't want answered.

Daria Morgendorffer allowed her eyes to roam the open space that had been designated as their activity area, or at least as much as she could without glasses.

**It was a pretty lousy thing to do, taking our glasses away**, her Other said, **The psych shouldn't have asked if his wife was having an affair if he didn't want to know.**

_That's true._ Daria thought back to her Other, _But at the same time I didn't have to give him the answer; or the details. I should have guessed he'd be petty enough take bad news out on the messenger._

Daria shifted in her Facility issued cotton pants when one of her fellow 'guests' burst into a screaming argument with her personal Oversoul. Of course since only the meta-human in question could hear her Other, the argument seemed very one-sided. The rules of the Facility separated the sexes at all times and separated the dangerous guests from the others. Unfortunately for Daria's piece of mind, the definition of dangerous in the Facility meant the presence of an Oversoul. While the information provided by Daria's Other could be dangerous in the right situations, it wouldn't mean much if the screaming pyrokineticist burst into flames.

_Why are we out here again?_ Daria asked her 'self'. _Normally we don't share yard time with Bursts-into-Flames._

**Part of it is Mr. Wymbie's fault**, Daria's Oversoul replied. **Its part of his revenge for telling him his wife was knocking boots with his sister. The other reason is that Tam's Oversoul. Mr. I-can-See-the-Future himself told us that it would be in our best interest to be out here today. Considering how rarely he speaks to any of the rest of us, it's probably a good idea to follow his advice.**

Daria nodded, and leaned back against the low stone wall her bench had been placed against. Most of her fellow guests avoided Daria in a futile attempt at preventing Daria from knowing everything about them; not that Daria really cared to look.

Daria was shaken from her thoughts by a voice she didn't recognize. "Hey stranger, this seat taken?"

Daria judged the voice to belong to a girl around her own age. Without her glasses, the girl was nothing but a blur, but Daria could tell she was wearing the simple white cotton scrubs issued to all the quests.

"Not at the moment," Daria replied, "But are you sure you want it? I could be pretty dangerous."

"Sure," The voice replied, "But I've been given the 411 on everyone out here and you're probably the safest person out here."

The blur sat down next to Daria and just barely resolved into a black haired girl just slightly taller than Daria herself.

"Careful," Daria warned, "Or I'll know more about you than you do."

"Nah," The blur replies. "We Lanes don't have secrets worth caring about." Then, to Daria's shock, for the first time in almost a year, someone deliberately took her hand.

As the basic information flowed from her Overmind Daria heard the blur say, "The name's Jane, Jane Lane. Nice to meet you."

"So," Jane began, "I hear it's a tradition to give your powers and all that when you meet someone the first time, so I'll go first. As I said, my name is Jane Lane and I have superhuman senses."

Daria raised an eyebrow, a trick she picked up to freak out the psychiatrists.

"They must be extreme if you have an Other." Daria commented.

"Well, I can see the whole electromagnetic spectrum and other weird things like taste the color purple and smell thunder. Oh, and if I want to I can do that anyplace in the world without being there. If you gave me a moment I could tell you what color of underwear some random schoolgirl in Japan is wearing right now."

"It's night in Japan right now, Jane."

"Okay, then the color of their pajamas, if they wear any; I'm sure you get the point."

"I do." **Interesting example.** _You stay out of this._ **Not a chance. She's the most interesting thing to happen to us in ages. **_Then could you please keep your comment to yourself at least?_ **No way; I'm going to have way too much fun with this. You have noticed that you're still holding hands, right?**

Daria had noticed that Jane hadn't let go of her hand yet, but Daria's last physical contact with another person had been over four months ago. Daria wasn't sure she could let go of Jane's hand on her own.

"So," Jane asked, "people tell me you are the person in the know . . . . Want to share some info about this place?"

Jane must have felt Daria's muscles tense at the question, because she quickly rephrased.

"I mean the dos and don'ts. At the last facility one of the cafeteria guys was a boob man. If you flashed him a little cleavage you got an extra half scoop of whatever he was in charge of. At the place before that you never wanted to talk football with the guards, because they were always losing money betting on the games. Little tips like that."

Daria felt herself relax as Jane explained herself. **That's a good question.**

"For starters, don't ask Mr. Wymbie about his wife or sister. He's petty and has no problem punishing the messenger." **Even when he asked for the information.**

Daria turned her head and meet the still blurred eyes of her companion. "But the most important think involves your Other. I don't know how well you get along, but do NOT allow the guards to catch you in arguing out-loud."

Daria nodded towards the pyrokinetist who was deeply involved her one-sided screaming match.

"She's going to have double the number of pills in her cup tomorrow, and I'm betting most of them won't be vitamins. Whenever any of the psychiatrists think you're having disagreements with your Other their first impulse is to drug you for a few days to 'cool off' followed by extra therapy sessions."

"And the guards?" Jane asked.

"Most of the visible ones are nice enough. Watch out for the redhead though, he likes to have 'accidents' with cups of water. He'll target anyone with breasts so most of us keep six feet away from him whenever we can." **It's nice to watch though, as long as we're not the targets.**

Daria paused before making her next statement.

"What you have to look out for, are the guards with the black faceplates. They're part of the hunter squads that go after the escapes and the serious trouble makers. The last time they were here one of the other guests, totally harmless guy, got a rifle butt to the head for being in their way. As far as anyone here can determine, 'being in the way' meant 'they saw him'. He'd still be in the infirmary if they hadn't let Jack heal him." **I still say they detoured just so they could hit someone else.**

Jane winced.

"Okay, the storm trooper want-to-bes aren't going on my Christmas card list. But speaking of the infirmary. . . ." Jane drew her legs onto the bench, where she hugged them tightly.

Daria gave their joined hands a firm squeeze.

"Once they've got a good grasp of what you can do all the experimentation is strictly voluntary. The perks for volunteering are nice, but they don't deprive you of the basics if you refuse."

"That's weird," Jane said. "The last Facility I was at was all about experimentation; as complete and through as possible. There wasn't a day that I didn't get painful test or a 'request' to see something for them; often times both."

"This is a long-term holding facility, Jane. That's why it is so comfortable. There are two kinds of Oversouls here: the ones that couldn't be stopped and the ones that the government is scared to let go."

"I'll admit it is a lot swanker here than in any other Facility I've ever been in, but what do you mean by two kinds of people?"

Daria gestured over to the pyrokinetist, who had finally gotten quite, though an occasional rude gesture betrayed her continued agitation.

"Take Annet there. She could walk out of this place anytime she wanted to and there's nothing the hunter squads could do to stop her. It would take a carpet bombing to hurt her and I doubt that could kill her."

Daria sighed and gestured to herself.

"I'm in the prime example of the other category. The questions I could answer and the secrets I could reveal give some people screaming nightmares. Your ability to spy on anyone is the same. They can't allow us out into the general public were someone could ask the 'wrong' questions and get the right answers."

Jane sighed. "I've been watching them draft Bill 23076 for a couple of months now. I thought it looked like they were putting in a few too many exceptions for them to let go of all of us."

Daria nodded.

"We've been keeping track of it ourselves." Daria explained. "And it's been obvious from the start that there are some of us they'd much rather not let into public. About two months ago they started swapping people in and out. This place is expensive to maintain, but it's more likely to keep the long-timers inside than an actual prison would."

The blur that was Jane nodded, "Having a broken lock doesn't mater if the inmate won't go out the door."

Daria nodded.

**Are you planning on letting go of her hand anytime soon**? _Will you drop that?_ **Not until you admit it.** _Fine, if Jane wants her hand back she's going to have to get it herself. Are happy now?_ **Yes.**

"Hey," Jane gently broke into the mental conversation. "I noticed you seem to be squinting a lot, having eye trouble?"

Daria sighed. "Do you remember my warning about Mr. Wymbie? He's one of the 'expert' headshrinkers here. Yesterday he asked a question he probably shouldn't have and got an answer he didn't want to hear. He invented some psychobabble and got my glasses confiscated. I can't see without them, even you are an almost total blur."

Daria felt Jane's hand tighten in hers. "That asshole! Is there anything you can do to get them back?"

Daria nodded. "He's just a visiting headshrinker. Monday, when my regular psychiatrist comes back, she'll override his decision and give me back my glasses. I know the Facility well enough to get around; I'll just have to avoid bumping into anyone until Monday."

"Well, if you need a seeing-eye person in the meantime I'm your girl." Jane laughed.

_Don't._ **Don't what?** _I know what you were about to do, stay out of her info._ **I was just going to look**. _We don't need to do that._ **Yes we do, but I'll wait until you ask. And you are going to ask.**

"You won't have to twist my arm." Daria said out loud.

Jane sighed theatrically. "Well, there goes the easiest way to lead you around."

Daria laughed. **Oh, I like her.**

/


	2. Of Murder and Road Trips

Consciousness returned to Daria Morgendorffer the same way it had for years, by means of a bright beam of sunlight passing through her unadorned windows.

The Facility had originally been constructed to be a mental hospital and its current owners saw little reason to make extensive changes. The walls were still the same off-white, it still received few visitors not directly related to a 'guest', and its 'guest' rooms were still cells.

Indulging in a long stretch, the recently awoken meta-human gave her room an unfocused glance. Despite the blurriness, there didn't seem to be an overnight changes. The simple table and chair and the couple of posters that were the only nod to the room's occupant status as a 'guest' were still all in place.

With a large yawn Daria climbed out of bed and gave her cell door the customary lock check. Pleased to see that it wasn't locked Daria performed her prescribed morning stretches as best she could in the confined space. **Another day and nothing has changed.**

The checking the door's status was a morning ritual that most of the meta-humans living in the Facility participated in. In their default state the doors were unlocked, a gesture to the fact that many of the Oversouls in this facility could simply unlock/walk through/rip open/destroy a locked door at will. Locked cell doors were usually an indication of some sort of change; and any change that caused the doors to be locked was sure to induce some form of headache.

Daria was most of the way through her prescribed stretches when she felt the door open. A middle-aged woman in an impeccable business suit strode into the cell without a word. If Daria hadn't know better, she would have thought her mother was visiting. The woman placed a white bundle on Daria's bed and calmly sat in the room's one seat.

Giving herself a mental shrug Daria finished the last stretch. Reaching for the top of the bundle, Daria was pleased to note that the sitting on top of the white cloth where her heavy-framed glasses. Not even bothering to conceal a sigh of relief as the world came back into focus, Daria allowed her eyes to glance at the rest of the bundle. **That's** n**ot good, something is going down today.**

Instead of the bundle of un-dyed hospital scrubs, which were the standard uniform for guest of the Facility, a thicker jumpsuit in more neutral gray sat on her bed. Something big was going to happen and Daria was almost certain she wasn't going to enjoy it.

Daria sighed again, this time in annoyance and turned to the woman who had entered her room. Through the corrective lenses the woman's resemblance to Daria's mother was both stronger and weaker. Her business suit was an almost perfect match to what Helen Morgendorffer had been wearing the last time she had seen her daughter. On the other hand, the woman's naturally tan skin and blond hair were very much different.

"Good morning, Counselor Rivenbach." Daria said. **Tell her hello from me.** "Other says hello too."

"Good morning Daria, Daria's Other," Mrs. Rivenbach, Daria's primary counselor answered. "On the behalf of the Facility, and those of the psychiatric profession, I would like to apologize for Mr. Wymbie's behavior towards you, it was highly unprofessional. As much as I would like to see him dismissed, however, I'm afraid I am not overly burdened with applications for potential replacements."

**Figures, the bad ones never go away.** Daria stifled a chuckle at the mental comment.

"Fortunately," Mrs. Rivenbach continued, "He's taken a brief leave of absence to handle some personal issues." Then Mrs. Rivenbach's expression dropped in to professional mode. "Unfortunately, the United States Government once again has need of your particular services. Please be dressed quickly and meet me in the third meeting room as soon as possible."

"It's going to be bad isn't it?" Daria asked tiredly.

"Is it ever good when the government calls on you?" Mrs. Rivenbach asked.

Both Daria and her Other declined to comment.

Meeting room number three was the second largest meeting room in the Facility and one of two that had been built after the complex had been purchased by the government. It was Daria's favorite meeting room because it had the best seats.

Several of the seats in the boardroom style meeting room were already occupied when Daria entered. She dismissed the three suit wearing agents out of hand, she had yet to meet someone wearing one of _those_ suits that was anything more than a carbon copy of the type.

The fourth suit was someone she actually knew. Agent Smith was the only agent Daria had meet with even a semblance of humor. He was not in a perfect carbon copy of the suit worn by the other agents; though the red and blue cufflinks that marked the difference would be hard to spot if you didn't know how to look. He was also the only agent to return Daria's greeting nod.

Daria also knew the facility representatives in the meeting. Thanks to the general fear of her abilities she didn't know any of them well, but they did at least return her greetings.

Also in the room where two of her fellow guests, also in the grey jumper that was considered the Facilities 'outside' uniform. One Daria recognized immediately as Tam McGins, whose Oversoul allowed him to see into the future.

The quiet half-Asian seer was never happy to be asked about the future. In his usual reply to requests was, "the future is always in motion. By the time I've finished telling you about something at least half the details will have changed."

The other person wearing the jumpsuit was a girl Daria did not recognize. The same could not be said for the dark haired young woman who smiled brightly when their eyes meet.

**That's Jane.** Whispered Daria's Other. Having reached that conclusion herself, Daria took a moment to study the Facilities newest guest.

Jane was about her own age, but even seated it was easy to tell she was taller. The young meta-human's dark hair was not in attractive cut, and the uniform did the same thing for her figure it did for everyone else that wore it, absolutely nothing. **Are you sure you don't want to know her measurements?**_I don't have any idea what you are talking about._**Sure you don't.**

Daria noticed as she took the seat next to her, that Jane did have a scar which passed from out of her hairline and bisected her right eyebrow. Thankfully, it didn't look like her eye had been damaged.

"Nice to officially meet you," Jane began, "My name is Jane Lane." Without a single instant of hesitation Jane held out her right hand for Daria to shake.

Ignoring the looks of surprise around her, Daria took Jane's hand. "Daria Morgendorffer, nice to finally get to see you."

Running a hand through her institute cropped hair, Jane laughed. "I'm not much to look at. But then again, no Lane has ever been a looker."

"It's the jumpsuit," Daria replied with a grin. "They're designer; made by the same people did the Potato Sack."

Jane opened her mouth to make another witty comment when Agent Smith's cough refocused the room's attention.

"Now that everyone is present, we can begin." The federal agent said.

Standing, Agent Smith used a remote to dim the lights and start up a hidden projector. The image appearing on the screen was a candid shot of a middle aged Caucasian man. "This is Patrick Eddington. He was a close personal friend and long-time aide to a Wisconsin senator. Three hours ago he was found dead in his DC apartment, possibly of an overdose."

**Which it isn't, or we wouldn't be here.**

As Smith continued to talk he clicked the remote again and the image changed to a series of similar photos of different people. "Ordinarily this would be a matter for the police, but within the last two months five other people close to the senator have also died, all under what seems like completely unrelated circumstances. We need to know if this really is just a coincidence or if it is a conspiracy, and if it is the latter then we want the perpetrator or perpetrators in custody before they can kill again."

_You called it._

Jane raised her hand timidly. "Don't you have specialists for this sort of thing?" She asked when acknowledged.

Smith nodded, "We do and they are working on the case using their own methods, but we need the perp as soon as possible. After he/she/they, are in custody the experts will build the case to keep them there."

"I'm assuming you have something from the victims for me to get a link to?" Daria asked.

Agent Smith shook his head. "Not yet. We do understand that all of your powers work better with something concrete to work with, but there have been complications. That is why you're going to the evidence instead of the other way around."

**Cool, field trip.**

"A little excessive you think?" Jane asked about an hour later.

The three meta-humans had been be bundled into an unmarked van less than ten minutes after the briefing had been completed. A thirty minute drive later and the party was unloaded at a private airstrip. They were met by almost thirty heavily armed soldiers in full body armor.

Eyeing the armed guard, Tam was the first to reply. "Actually they're being pretty relaxed about this." Tam shrugged, showing empty hands. "No restraints, no armored vehicles, and they actually briefed us before loading us on the plane."

Daria nodded, "Totally relaxed," she agreed. "Probably because we're all relatively harmless. I was transported with Annette once: fully restraints, sedatives, and our convoy was flanked by tanks."

Tam laughed, "Try traveling with Ben sometime. Mine included a fully body straight jacket and facemask. The only upside was that I was so doped up I don't remember most of the trip."

"Err, okay," Jane said haltingly. "They didn't use anything like that when I was shipped to your Facility."

"You traveled by air right, and alone?" Daria asked.

When Jane nodded Daria continued. "You were moving from Facility to Facility, you don't have offensive powers and even if you could do it, you wouldn't survive knocking the plane out of the air. We're not going to a Facility this time; we're going into the heart of the capital. Extra precautions are a given."

"Which should _not_ be necessary," Agent Smith said as he approached. "And as long as you follow instructions they won't be. There have been some additional complications, but we can't delay the flight any longer. We're boarding now; follow the agents to the plane."

"So . . . complication?" Jane asked after the small commuter jet had left the ground.

Smith actually sighed. "Eddington was an ex-marine. NCIS claimed his body and has begun its own investigation. In the meantime, they're denying us access to the body and his apartment. What's worse, they've assigned Gibbs to the case."

The three meta-humans looked at each other and shrugged.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs is one of NCIS' best, or worse depending on your point of view, agents." Agent Smith said. "The man is known for obsessive pursuit of his cases and a total disregard of the law when doing so."

"So are we getting access?" Daria asked.

"Eventually," Agent Smith said. "We're pulling strings, so it's likely we'll get some sort of access by the time we get there. It's just a matter of what we get access too."

_The dead body?_ **Probably.**

"I don't like this," Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo, federal agent, bachelor and movie buff said to no one in particular from behind his desk.

"There's a lot of stuff you don't like Tony," the multi-lingual Israeli native Ziva David replied, "You'll have to be more specific."

"Well Ziva," Tony replied, "In this case I am referring to the meta-humans Homeland Security is sending over."

"What do you mean Tony?" Timothy McGee, federal agent, computer expert and novelist asked. "You don't have a problem with Abby's super power."

Tony shot the more junior agent a look. "Abby's power is the ability to keep coffee warm. How often do you think she uses it?"

"Everyday," Tim and Ziva said simultaneously.

"Okay point," Tony shrugged, "But how often does she use it in our cases? And that's not the point; if Homeland Security has meta-humans that can tell us who a murder is then why the hell don't they use them more often?"

"Well it could be a number of things," Tim replied, "Maybe the power only awoke recently. Or there could be issues with how the power works."

"Or it could be that they don't want to share," Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS special agent and team leader interrupted as he entered the office. "Wouldn't put it past the bastards. Come on, they're checking through security right now. I'm sure Ducky won't mind some extra company."

The other agents of the NCIS team grinned and headed for the elevators.

"Ah Jethro, good timing as always." Dr. Donald Mallard, known to most as 'Ducky', said as Gibbs and his team entered the morge. "I was just about ready to release my findings, but I'm sure your reasons for being here are the same as young Abigial's."

Ducky gestured to the other side of the room where forensic specilist Abigail "Abby" Sciuto bounced on a stool with impatience.

"What?" Abby asked when Gibbs shot her a look. "Gibbs there's no way I'd miss a chance to meet an Oversoul. My power is cool and all, but I don't need the help of a comsic entity to control it."

However Agent Gibbs was going to reply was rendered moot as the mirrored morgue door opened and a man in business suit slid in. The agent quickly and professionally surveyed the room and turned to face Gibbs.

"Agent Gibbs," the man said, "I'm Agent Smith of Homeland Security. Quite a collection of people you have here."

"They're my team," Gibbs said belligerently, "You got a problem with that?"

Agent Smith shook his head, a sardonic grin on his face. "No, but they might. Still, for the sake of getting this over with we'll proceed as normal."

Smith then opened the door, allowing another suit wearing agent to enter. The new agent moved out of the way allowing three more figures to walk into the room followed by a third agent.

All the present NCIS agents blinked as they realized that the figures being escorted weren't of below average stature, but were actually of below average age.

"They have you escorting kids around now, Agent Smith?" Gibbs asked.

Agent Smith quickly raised a hand, silencing a comment from the girl wearing glasses. "These are the people that are going to make your job a lot easier Gibbs, so I'd at least try to be polite. I'd like you to meet our clairvoyant Jane Lane, our precog Tam McGins, and Daria Morgendorffer, whose official term is still being debated on."

The teen identified as Daria sighed and rubbed her head, "The last time I heard of it they were trying to do something witty with 'encyclopedia'." Daria's expression told everyone that 'their' definition of wit and her own were very different.

"Regardless of the technical term," Agent Smith said with a hidden grin, "Daria will be our point woman on this particular case. For the fastest results all we need is a point of contact."

"Point of contact with what exactly?" Gibbs growled.

Daria shrugged and answered before Smith could. "Something he owned or wore would work, but it would be faster if I could touch his body."

Ducky's expression grew distressed, "My dear that really isn't the kind of thing I would voluntarily subject someone too."

Daria shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first time; and won't be the last time either. Believe me I've seen, and handled, worse Dr. Mallard."

Daria paused and sighed, "Sorry that was rude of us. My name is Daria Morgendorffer," Daria bowed, "Pleased to meet you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"No worries Dear," Ducky continued, "No harm done. Here we go one Patrick Dryson Eddington, the Third."

Dr. Mallard slid a refrigerated slab from one of the morgue cabinets. Several of the NCIS agents noticed that none of the teenagers flinched at the sight of the body.

"I estimate his time of death to be between midnight and two AM yesterday morning."

"Daria." Agent Smith interrupted.

"His death was at 12:13 am." The meta-human replied.

"What, no seconds?" Tony quipped.

"And 15 seconds," Daria shot back, "would you care for the hundredth or thousandth of a second?"

Jane and Tam hid snickers as Gibbs shot his underling a hard look.

It was Ducky who brought the conversation back on track. "Well, yes. If you look here on his right arm you can see the cause of death. See the injection mark? That's where the needle broke the skin."

"So it was an accidental overdose," Timothy Mcgee said.

"Not hardly." "Not a chance." "No." Said Ducky, Abby, and Daria simultaneously.

The three speakers looked at each other a moment before Ducky resumed his explanation. "See the bruising on his arm here and here? I doubt Mr. Eddington made those marks himself; indeed I don't think he was conscious at all when it happened."

"And the needle he was drugged with had some funky stuff in it." Abby continued. "It was mostly steroids, and enough to kill most people, but why I ran the mass spectrometry I detected some arsine hidden in the steroids."

"Rather diabolic if you think about it." Abby continued, "If the arsine didn't get him the steroids would have."

**I agree**, Daria's other chimed inside Daria's mind. **If a little overkill.**

"Hardly the kind of mistake even an armature drug head would make." Ziva commented.

"Oh it was deliberate," Daria said. "Arsine's a gas normally. You have to disovle it into water to be able to inject it into someone."

Gibbs was about to demand details when Daria held up her hand.

"Let me finish please." She said. "Patrick Eddington died of a lethal cocktail of drugs injected to him while he was unconscious by one Megan Griswold who had been paid to do so by an Edison Van Flether."

"Tony, Ziva, McGee get to it." Gibbs ordered, sending his teammates quickly out of the morgue.

"If you bring me something she's handled I can tell you where she is," Jane yelled as the agents left the room.

Abby laughed and hoped of her stool. "Ask and you shall receive. I have the needle we found with Mr. Eddington in my lab. Would that work?"

Jane smiled, "The only thing that would be better would be the lady herself, which would mean I wouldn't have to look for her at all would I?"

"Not if you were looking for identical twins." Abby rejoined.

"Touché."

Gibbs watched the three meta-human's enter the elevator with a careful eye. The situation bothered him more than he was showing. What was bothering him the most he hadn't quite pinned down. All three _children_ hadn't even flinched when the body had been rolled out; the one in glasses had show the same level of reluctance to handle the body that Ducky did, or in other words, none at all.

Nor had the children reacted at all to their escort of armed agents, which Gibbs knew very well was not there to _guard_ them.

As the elevator descended towards Abby's lab, however, the boy had leaned over and spoken to 'Agent Smith' and whispered just a few words that had the man swearing furiously. As soon as the group disembarked from the elevator the agent had trailed behind, barking several orders into a satellite phone. While the taller girl seemed to be surprised by the agent's behavior the shorter one just looked at the boy, who nodded which seemed to settle the matter for her.

A few seconds later the group breezed into Abby's lab. Almost immediately the girl with the glasses sighed and put both hands in her pockets with a look of regret passing over her face. The boy made a comment that Gibbs missed, earning him a fierce glare from the suddenly put-upon teenager.

"And here was go, the instrument that did the fowl deed." Abby was saying as she brought out a rather unassuming syringe. "Err, I don't suppose you could handle this through gloves?" Abby continued gesturing at her latex covered hands.

"Not really," Jane said, "I'd get too wrapped up in the gloves to read the needle. All I need it a fingertip though."

"Just let her touch it Abs." Gibbs interrupted as the forensic scientist hesitated. "We'll submit it as part of the evidence chain."

The forensic scientist and clairvoyant shrugged and Jane placed a pinky on the side of the syringe. Almost immediately the teenaged Oversoul's face took on the appearance of intense concentration.

"We're clear," Agent Smith said as he returned to the room. "The maintenance people have been skimping on us. The right engine failed a detailed inspection. Good catch Tam. How is it going Jane?"

Jane made a quiet sound. "Not well, too many people have handled this thing since the killer. Eliminating them is taking longer than I though it would."

Gibbs was about to say something when the overly-chirpy Abby interrupted. "Oh cool I get it, you're like the Fates." Everyone but Jane gave the forensic scientist an odd look.

"No really, see you're the past, she's the present, and you're the future," Abby said pointing to Daria, Jane, and Tam in turn.

Agent Smith grinned as Daria scowled. **Want to bet that becomes our nickname?** _No bet, Smith heard it. He'll put it in his after-action report and it will become an unofficial name before the week is out._

"Jane," Daria said out loud, "You need to stop, you're starting to sweat."

The taller girl ignored Daria as a frown appeared on her face along with a light coat of sweat.

"Damn it Jane," Daria complained, stalking close, "It is not worth browning out over!"

Jane's frowned deepened even more. "I've almost got it." She said to everyone and no one.

Daria stopped at the side of the clairvoyant teen and visibly counted to five. Once she reached five Daria reached out to grab Jane's arm. Before she could make contact however, Jane took her own hand off the needle with a triumphant arm pump.

"Got her!" Jane cried in triumph. "She's on Interstate 10 heading south in a red convertible. And just for the record, she barely handled the damn needle at all." Jane pointed over at Abbey, "She's touched that thing more than the bitch did."

"Any way you can find the person who gave it to her?" Gibbs asked from his corner of the room.

"NO!" Both Daria and Tam yelled in protest before Jane could even open her mouth.

"She was _sweating_," Daria stressed, "while using her powers. That's about the only warning sign we get."

Seeing looks of incomprehension on the faces of the NCIS agents Daria decided to explain further. "You know that we get our powers from some nebulous 'somewhere else' right? And that our Oversouls are the gatekeepers of that connection?"

Daria waited until both agents nodded before continuing. "When we tap into the deeper aspects of our power some energy from 'somewhere else' leaks in too. That energy turns into heat, right in the middle of our _brains_."

Agent Smith interceded before Daria began to rant in earnest. "Over-using their high-level powers, and in Jane's case that means looking for old impressions on an object, has been know to cause fainting, heat stroke, or in a couple of cases straight out death. The policy is simple, when an Oversoul starts sweating you stop, period."

"Wow," Abbey replied looking at Jane, "I did not know that. Hey, should you be following her if you're about to fall over?"

Jane made a dismissive gesture, "As long as I keep to one place at a time just looking somewhere else is a freebie. The plate is from North Carolina, NTU783. There's a rental place sticker on the back bumper and she's driving about five miles-an-hour too fast."

"I'll find out where it came from," Daria stated, knowing somebody was going to bring it up. "It's what I do after all."

Gibbs swore and snapped his cell open.

Daria sighed and looked up at the ceiling of the meeting room. Almost immediately after Gibbs phone call, the three meta-humans had been stashed in the room for 'their own safety'. The agents posted outside the doors were there to make sure of it. **Bored, bored, bored, bored, and bored.** _At least the chair is soft. _**They must have remolded recently; it'd take effort to get anything but the factories from the furniture. Nothing to read, nothing to touch, soooo bored!**

"How much longer are we going to sit here?" Daria asked over her shoulder.

Standing in front of the room's only window, Agent Smith replied with an air of distraction. "As soon as the new plane is inspected and arrives at the airport. I expect you'd find an hour of boredom preferable to the fiery plane crash Tam predicted."

"At this point I'm reconsidering which I'd prefer," Jane commented from her own chair on the other side of the table. "It'd be quicker than a slow lingering death from boredom."

"At least you and Tam can do something," Daria complained, "This room's so new they haven't pulled all the sale's tags off. I don't suppose I could get a magazine, or at least go for a damn walk?"

"The joint chiefs would have an aneurism," Agent Smith commented. "I'm sure there's going to be flack over the presence of three living security breaches walking around the clubhouse as it is. I'd prefer that we'd be gone before anyone both armed and paranoid enough to cause trouble realizes any of you are here."

"I say we could take a walk anyway," Daria declared, flashing a quick wink at her fellow meta-humans. "It's not as if they could really stop us."

A brief look of confusion came over Jane's face as Tam replied, "I'd say we have about a 55% chance of making a successful break for it. Odds go up a lot if we take out Smith first."

Jane's confusion cleared a bit when she noticed that everyone in the room, including Agent Smith, had sardonic grins on their faces. "I only see two guards outside the doors," Jane said, "and all they have are tasers. They should be easy enough to get past."

"This is an upgraded sector," Daria took up, giving Jane another wink. "The cameras will be good, but there will be too many and too automated to have someone watching them all the time, we shouldn't have any trouble keeping away from them."

Agent Smith winced and touched a put his hand on his right ear. "Alright you three, I'm going to put an early end to this episode of 'freak the guards'. Agent Jackson has a very penetrating voice even in the best of times; I don't need to hear it at full volume in my earpiece."

Jane had to suppress a laugh at the put upon expressions that flickered over the other teens' faces. The next five minutes passed in relative silence, Tam slumped down on the chair as he quietly fell asleep. Then Jane blinked and smiled.

"They got her," Jane announced to the group. "She just got pulled over by state troopers . . . Oops, she figured out that it wasn't a traffic stop, she's pulling a runner." Jane trailed off for a moment as the far off action continued. "Okay, they got her again. Boy that mud is _never_ going to come out of that dress."

_Wish I could have seen that._ **Agreed.** "Which means we can finally . . . go back to waiting for a new plane." Daria said out loud. "I'd take a nap, but I wouldn't want to miss all the excitement."

Agent Smith ran a hand through his hair. "You might as well nap. The transport is still ten minutes off the strip and I expect refueling, inspections, and placing the security to take at least a half-hour."

Daria sighed, and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, however, a gentle poke in the arm prompted her to open one eye. Seeing Jane Lane in the chair next to her, Daria asked, "Jane?"

"Hey," Jane said at low volume, "I was wondering if we could talk for a bit."

Stretching briefly Daria smiled at her friend, "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Jane shrugged, "Just wanted to talk. Maybe get to know you a little better. I mean you got a pretty good read on me, but I don't know a whole lot about you yet."

"Actually, I don't know that much about you," Daria replied, "The broad facts sure, but I don't get the minute day-to-day details or your feelings. I don't know what your favorite pizza toping is for instance."

Jane laughed quietly, "Pepperoni is its own food group. You?"

Daria smiled in return, "Pizza was invented as a delivery vessel for Canadian bacon. The cafeteria does a nice one about once a month"

"How long have you been living at the Facility?" Jane asked next.

Daria's eyes went slack for a second as she directed her powers at herself. "Almost six year now. Another six months and I'll have spent half my life in institutions."

Jane blinked at Daria a few times.

Daria sighed and waved her hand at her friend. "Do you know your discovery number by any change Jane?"

"Er, it's 523," Jane replied. "Why?"

"Mine's 19."

Jane blinked once before her jaw dropped in shock. "You're one of the first twenty?"

Daria sighed and looked down at her knees. "Yes."

Jane looked slightly dazed as she absently shook her head. Making a quick decision not to ask about some of the rumors she had heard, Jane changed tracks. ". . . . Why are the other agents watching you so closely? Agent Johnson can't seem to look anywhere else."

Daria heard the giggling of her Other even as the blush heated her face. "It may have something to do with how small unattended objects in my immediate vicinity _wander_ into my pockets. In fact I'm fairly certain that Agent Jackson's car keys may have been one such object."

Jane fought to keep a grin off her face. "And what was he objecting to, the idea that his keys like you better than him or the fact that you got a good reading on him while you had them?"

"A little for column A, a little from column B," Daria replied. "Most of the staff, and guests; and my parents, get a little nervous when they realize that they have very little privacy around me if I cared to snoop. In Agent Jackson's case this was compounded by the fact that his keys 'wandered' away from him in the first place. Apparently his fellow agents found the whole thing very amusing."

Jane laughed, "Nothing like a little embarrassment from your peers to create one hell of a grudge."

Daria's face ticked into something approximating a smile. "Thankfully the strip searches came to an end when it was discovered that no one wanted to actually be the person stripping me."

"Ah, there is an advantage to having a touch power," Jane said with a smirk, "less groping hands."

Daria smirked at her friend.

/


End file.
